


Patience is a Virtue

by ThereBeWhalesHere



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jim, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Prompt Fic, Romance, Smut, Top Spock, a little at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 13:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12109944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereBeWhalesHere/pseuds/ThereBeWhalesHere
Summary: "In Jim’s defense, it had been three days."





	Patience is a Virtue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeHeerKonijn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeHeerKonijn/gifts).



> This work serves multiple purposes! For one, it was requested by the incredible and wonderful and kind-hearted [Deheerkonijn](http://deheerkonijn.tumblr.com/)/[Herrhasen](http://herrhasen.tumblr.com/), who asked for "a Spirk shoutout to jimbo riding the babe" which is so far up my alley it's obscene.
> 
> For two, I totally drew a bit of inspiration from their [ Stargazing Series](http://deheerkonijn.tumblr.com/tagged/stargazing-series) \-- gorgeous artwork and also everything I love in life.
> 
> For three, it's a very small contribution to the 50th anniversary of our favorite space nerds rolling around in the sand and realizing they're soul-bonded to each other, so that's nice! A day late and a dollar short, but here it is anyway! <3
> 
> Anyhow, thank you HH, for the prompt, for your beautiful artwork and for generally being a cool as hell human being. I'm glad to know you!

In Jim’s defense, it  _ had _ been three days.

 

Now, in the grand scheme of things and the endless span of the universe, maybe three days couldn't be considered overly long, especially since it certainly wasn’t Jim's record. Why, there had been a time back at the Academy he had gone three  _ months _ without, thanks to one incredibly busy semester, but that was before Spock. And in all respects Jim had been a very different man before Spock. Of course, until now, he didn’t realize that he had also once been far more patient.

 

But as he shoved his lover up against the wall, fists in Spock’s tunic and tongue plunging mercilessly into Spock’s willing mouth, he considered that they had been interrupted at every turn, overwhelmed with demands on their time ranging from petty squabbles between officers to incredibly valid red alerts that required at least one member of the command team-- maybe the only drawback to bedding his first officer. And so he forgave himself his haste, if only because he could tell that Spock, paragon of patience himself, was already hard, and grasping at Jim’s back like he wanted to tear Jim’s tunic with his blunted nails alone. In honesty, he probably could.

 

Jim pulled back, just enough to get his hands on Spock’s jaw and tilt his head savagely, diving back in for a kiss that muffled the whimpers that had stuck themselves in his throat, entirely inspired by the man who squirmed between his own firm body and the hard plane of the wall of Jim’s quarters. They hadn’t even bothered to turn on the light when they practically stumbled in, and now it was just the glow of starlight from the sleeping alcove that lit the lines of Spock’s figure in subtle white. He was beautiful in the near-darkness, but Jim had prioritized the sensation of touch over enjoying the view.

 

When they pulled off, it was with twin gasps, breathing each other in, and Jim would have laughed at the relief of their kiss if he weren’t sure that, at any moment, they could be pulled apart again. And it was painful to be pulled apart, though if he wanted what he wanted desperately enough, he’d have to suffer distance for a moment.

 

Jim stepped back, taking his tunic in both hands and yanking it over his head as Spock pushed himself off the wall to do the same, tossing his own uniform to the side before his hands came hurried to the clasp of Jim’s trousers.

 

Jim allowed himself to be tugged forward, his clothed erection pressed against Spock’s as those deft fingers worked the button. Jim ran his hands up Spock’s bare chest and he pressed forward against him, taking his lips in another kiss while Spock shoved the fabric over his ass and down his thighs. They pulled away long enough for Jim to kick off his slacks and toe out of his boots, long enough for Spock to work open his own fly. 

 

When Jim was finally free, he knelt without thought, shoving Spock's hips against the wall again. He settled on his own heels and yanked Spock's slacks down, freeing Spock's shaft to a sigh of relief from the man above him. With a grin, Jim licked his lips and took his lover’s cock in his hand. Then, as if asking permission, Jim looked up, but the way Spock hardened noticeably in his hand was indication enough of his thoughts on the matter.  “Jim,” Spock whispered, and it sounded like a warning, but Jim was far too desperate to heed warnings right now. He closed his mouth around the head and sank forward, tracing Spock’s hips with his fingertips as he curled his tongue the way he knew would get Spock gasping.

 

With a quiet 'ah' of surprise and obvious pleasure, Spock seemed to stop himself from jerking forward, and Jim looked up to see his beautiful, unflappable, Vulcan first officer flushed green along his cheeks and nose, a look of undeniable hunger in his eyes. Jim would have smiled if Spock hadn’t been buried throat-deep inside him, so he hummed his appreciation, pulling his lips tight along Spock’s length as a hand fisted in his hair. 

 

He worshipped the cock in his mouth, taking it out to lick long lines against it, to lap his tongue along the tip where he already tasted Spock dripping, to fit his lips between the ridges at Spock’s head and suck languidly. Each movement had Spock twitching, restraining himself from moving too much, his legs trembling. When Jim pulled off, Spock was verdant and hard as a rod, his chest heaving with deep, steadying breaths. Jim canted his eyes up to him, and he knew by the way Spock swallowed that he’d seen the fire in them.

 

“You know what I want, sweetheart,” Jim said, running his hands down Spock’s thighs, his calves, his ankles. Spock’s slacks had pooled at his feet, and now Jim tugged them purposely, prompting Spock to lift one leg, then another, as Jim helped him out of the last of his clothes.

 

When he’d done so, Spock’s hands came to his shoulders and helped him stand, pulling him flush against him the moment he was upright. They sank into each other’s kiss again, hands roaming, the hot lines Spock drew along Jim’s back making him quiver. But it was when those hands reached his ass and squeezed that Jim knew Spock wanted the exact same thing. “Bed,” Jim choked out when he managed to part from their kiss.

 

He didn’t want to waste time waiting on Spock to agree, so he took his lover by the biceps and steered him toward the bed. Starlight slid by outside the small window above Jim’s pillows, casting streaks over the flat plane of sheets, but Jim didn’t focus on the sight for long. Instead, his eyes were drawn to Spock’s. There was a darkness in them, enjoying the rough clench of Jim’s hands, the insistence, the hurry. It always felt like a hurry anymore, but somehow neither of them seemed to mind this time. There was a thrill in urgency, and Jim had  _ missed _ this.

 

He shoved Spock back onto the bed, a grin on his own face as Spock scooted upward, lifting himself on his elbows and looking to Jim expectantly. His thick cock was at a stand, and Jim wanted nothing more than to sink right onto him, but he tried to remember what patience felt like. Without wasting a movement, he strode to the bedside table, found the lube exactly where he’d left it three days ago, and immediately crawled onto the bed, straddling Spock’s chest. His own erection hardened in anticipation as he settled his weight on his knees, and Spock’s hands came to his thighs.

 

Spock squeezed, hard, and Jim hissed through his teeth. “You’re impatient tonight, sweetheart,” he said-- a rich accusation, coming from him. By the tilt in Spock’s lips, it was likely his lover recognized the irony.

 

“It has been days,” Spock reminded him, a note of contained desperation in his tone. “I am unwilling to wait much longer.”

 

A wave of desire washed over him at those words, at the thought that Spock had been just as anxious for this moment as Jim. He realized then that he would give Spock anything he wanted --  _ anything _ . Because Spock wanted  _ him _ , a gift Jim never hesitated to give, and because Jim knew that in return he could have this. Spock, and all his strength and gentleness, the heated look in his eyes and the hard grip of his hands.

 

And Jim decided that he wouldn’t make Spock wait much longer at all. He couldn’t.

 

Snapping open the cap of the lube, Jim coated his own fingers, eyes on Spock’s so he could watch the way those pupils widened. Spock loved this part, the smear of slick between fingertips, the shine of it in the starlight, the obscenity of Jim’s hands. Jim made sure Spock could see as a drop of it slid from fingertip to knuckle, then tossed the bottle to the side.

 

At Spock’s shuddering inhale of breath, Jim grinned and shuffled forward, feeling Spock’s fingers tighten at the clench of his thighs. Then, he reached back, tracing his fingers over his own entrance. He licked his lip at the sensation, the over-sensitivity born of deprivation, but he was in no mood to tease himself. In a moment he'd slid the first finger inside, a spike of anticipation shooting through him at the bare, knuckle-by-knuckle stretch. Spock knew this dance well; as Jim prepared himself, Spock brought a hand to Jim’s base and brought his mouth to the tip of Jim’s cock, lips tightening around him.

 

Jim gasped transparently, biting the corner of his lip and meeting Spock’s dark eyes, which caught the light of passing stars in a way that felt hypnotic, overwhelming. He clenched around his own finger as Spock drew his lips around Jim's head and flicked his tongue along the tip, the position allowing for no depth, but plenty of finesse. It was a startling sensation, spreading himself while a tongue flattened against him, while Spock sucked so gently it felt almost too loving for Jim to be allowed.

 

It often felt too loving for Jim to be allowed. But he’d come to understand that Spock would always love Jim more than Jim loved himself, and he’d come to accept that love with all the humility he was able to achieve -- which, outwardly, wasn’t much.

 

“You love this, don’t you?” Jim asked, voice low, slipping a second finger into himself and trying not to let the pleasure or the discomfort of the stretch show on his face. “You love sucking me while I fuck myself open for you.”

 

Spock hummed, tongue swirling around Jim’s head as if in answer, and Jim bit back a groan. He felt a drop of lube slide cool down the back of his thigh and shivered, though a deep heat was pooling in his groin. He knew he wasn’t quite ready, that it might hurt if he succumbed to his own impatience, but it could be days before they had a chance to do this again, and he wanted to feel Spock, to sit wincing in his chair tomorrow on the bridge, to feel proof that he belonged to Spock and Spock belonged to him, even when they had little time to assert as much. 

 

Sucking harder now, Spock lifted his head to take more of Jim into his mouth, and Jim felt his hips stutter, his channel clench. He pulled out his fingers and rested his wet hand on Spock’s shoulder, urging him back.

 

“I’m ready, sweetheart,” he said softly, and Spock’s hands moved from thigh to hip, gentle and reassuring.

 

“Are you certain?” Spock asked, his voice raw and strained, and Jim examined the concern in his expression, feeling himself smile at the sight. He sank down into a kiss, doubling over to fist his hand into Spock’s hair, to pull his lover’s head back and tongue into his mouth, to taste himself between those lips.

 

A shudder passed through the body below him, and he grinned into their kiss.

 

“I’m ready,” he said again when they parted, a breath against Spock’s lips that Spock may not have even heard. But he felt it, and that was enough. His grip loosened, and Jim slid down Spock’s body, rubbing himself against the hard line of Spock’s erection. He reached back to slide it between his cheeks, to wet it with the lube that cooled in the cleft of his ass. Feeling that hot length against him made Jim bite his lip, and he tightened his grip around Spock's cock. 

 

Spock bit back a moan, the truncated sound somehow more stimulating than it would have been if Spock had let it loose entirely. Jim loved this-- watching Spock hold himself back until he couldn’t anymore. And his perfectly controlled Vulcan lover always relented eventually. It was a point of pride, if Jim were being entirely honest with himself.

 

Eyes locked, he lined Spock up with his entrance and took a breath. Then, he sank down slow, wincing at the clear and stinging pain. Spock’s hands moved up and down his legs, gentling him, comfort eking from his touch that encouraged Jim to push past the ache. A breath escaped Jim’s lungs as the first ridge slipped past his ring, tension fading as he forced himself to relax around the intrusion, taking Spock’s head into him and lowering himself inch by inch, until he settled into Spock’s lap.

 

The feeling of fullness made him quiver, a whimper escaping his lips at the throb of the shaft inside him as Spock restrained his own movement. Eyelids fluttering, Spock rested his head against the pillow, and Jim drank in the sight of him, flushed green from cheek to heaving chest, a symphony of light and shadow, his jaw clenched tight against whatever sound he wanted to make. 

 

Lips parted to let in the air he was suddenly having trouble breathing, Jim pulled up, a slow drag of friction that made him groan quietly in the back of his throat, from pain and pleasure, the burn as exciting as the aching need for release. Spock’s hips jerked ever so slightly, and Jim felt the swell of his ridges just inside Jim's ring, a delicious throb of pressure. Spock wanted to fuck him, Jim could tell. He wanted to hold Jim by the hips and buck into him, but he held back, allowing Jim to take control, ever obedient to his captain’s wishes.

 

The thought shot arousal through Jim’s blood, and he sank back down in one swift movement, a gasp tearing out of his lungs as Spock whimpered beneath him. Emboldened, Jim set up a rhythm, slow at first, pulling up and pushing down in measured, equal beats. On each roll of his hips, Spock inhaled sharply, his teeth clenched so tight into his lower lip Jim wondered he didn’t bleed for it. He met Jim’s eyes, irises completely eclipsed, and his fingers tightened into the rolling muscle of Jim’s thighs.

 

“Just like that, baby,” Jim said softly, absently, a small gasp each time he felt those ridges drag against his sensitive nerves. “Oh, just like that.”

 

He steadied his hands on Spock’s chest, curling fingers into that wiry hair and pulling. And finally Spock groaned, something visceral and physical that Jim could feel in his chest. The pucker of tooth marks in Spock’s lips looked delicious, green divots he wanted to kiss, but he couldn’t stop moving now. Instead, he picked up his pace, the mattress beginning to creak with their shifting weight. His own cock stood untouched between them, hard and flushed and already dripping, but he didn’t need to touch himself, didn’t even need to be touched. Already he felt his climax building like storm clouds rolling in, and every single strike of Spock’s cock inside him felt like lightning. He shifted slightly, parted his legs just a little farther, and-- there-- Spock’s head hit his prostate straight-on and he groaned, dropping his chin to his chest, fingers clenching. 

 

“Jim,” Spock moaned-- his name so sweet on Spock’s lips, though there was a warning in it again, much more insistent this time. Jim kept up that angle, rocking forward and back, moving faster now that he felt Spock’s own orgasm approaching with the wet slide of precum inside him and the glorious pulse of his cock against Jim’s walls. He could have lived in this limbo between pain and pleasure, the thrill of standing on the precipice of release and knowing in moments they’d fling themselves off together.

 

He raised himself up, legs straining a little with his full weight, hands coming to rest on Spock’s forearms where those fingers dug bruises into his thighs, and he impaled himself on the hard shaft of Spock’s cock.

 

“Come for me, ashayam,” He said softly, words trying to break through the catatonic haze of wanting and having and needing more. The Vulcan endearment, so rare on Jim’s lips, caused Spock to writhe under him, a whimper as his hips jerked, meeting Jim on each downward movement. “Spock, please, baby, c-- come inside me.”

 

Spock’s mouth opened soundlessly and he threw his head back, leaking hot inside of Jim, and he bucked up just as Jim sank down -- a cry tearing out of him. His shaft throbbed almost painfully, and Jim felt those first hot bursts of cum coat his channel, slicking Spock’s cock as Spock lifted his hips off the bed and buried himself to the hilt. Jim let out a strangled groan at the feeling, bringing his hand to his own cock and gripping it tight. It took only one hard tug for his mind to blank out, for that wave of overwhelming pleasure to bowl him over, and then he was cumming, eyes screwed shut, legs trembling as he fought to keep himself upright, jerking himself off over Spock’s stomach. Spock’s spent cock twitched hot and overstimulated inside him, and Spock whimpered, his grip tightening to bruises on Jim’s legs.

 

Jim fell forward, free hand on the bed to steady himself, the other dragging out his orgasm for all it was worth, squeezing out those last drops of cum and moving his hips slowly, languidly. Spock was still half-hard, still hitching his breath at each brush of friction, but as Jim panted out his own climax and felt Spock's name fall in a whisper from his lips, the grip relaxed on his thighs and Spock's hands fell to the bed.

 

When Jim managed to open his eyes, dazed and completely overwhelmed, he met Spock’s steady stare. A smile broke over his own lips, and he released himself, dragging his hand from Spock’s stomach to his chest, then leaning forward, a request in the motion. Spock rose up to meet him, bringing a hand to the back of Jim’s head and curling his other arm around Jim’s back. 

 

Spock sat up straight now, pulling Jim’s dead weight with him, both stupefied with their satisfaction and spent tension as they licked slowly into each other’s mouths, savoring the taste. Jim laid his arms over Spock’s shoulders, finally taking the weight from his strained legs as he flopped into Spock’s lap. He giggled at his own inelegance, and a dazed half-smile blossomed on the lips against his own.

 

And, by some miracle, their communicators didn’t go off, no bosun whistle sounded. They sat curled together in simple awe of each other, time at last to sink into this perfect bliss. It was only a matter of time before life interrupted them again, but for now they were endless, two bodies as one in the starlight.


End file.
